Heroes and Villains
We cling to the outdated promise of heroes defeating villains, when it's unseen networks of quiet collaborators that solve most problems
A column of smoke rose impossibly high above the mountain range when my backpacking buddy quietly observed, “That’s not good.” It was the start of the 2021 Caldor fire, an inferno that tore through the Lake Tahoe region, burning over 220,000 acres—nearly 10 times the area of the Pacific Palisades fire. Within days, it devoured a thousand homes, a ski resort, and many of my favorite trails. Grey smoke obscured every view, ash fell like snow, and the air grew too toxic to breathe. As the flames advanced, I surveyed a lifetime of belongings, deciding what to save and what to sacrifice.
Like many, I viewed this disaster through a traditional lens: the fire was the villain, the firefighters were the heroes, and their confrontation was an epic battle between good and evil. First-hand experience soon introduced me to a new perspective.
That all-too-real experience taught me that villains lurked everywhere. While the fire posed the immediate threat, it was enabled by fierce winds that whipped it into a tornado and acres of dead trees that provided ready fuel. The cast of bad guys also included neighbors who wouldn’t clear brush from their properties, pompous loud mouths who offered non-existent expertise, and tourists who ignored warnings to stay away.
The firefighters were obvious heroes, but they weren’t alone in this battle. Over two dozen city, county, state, and Federal agencies joined forces. Behind the front lines, weather scientists provided crucial hour-by-hour forecasts that informed tactical decisions. GIS specialists analyzed countless points of data to create real-time maps that guided water drops and shaped evacuation strategies. Community organizations mobilized to coordinate shelter and supplies for displaced residents and animals, while private landowners offered access routes and maintained firebreaks.
Perhaps most striking was the role of communication. Gone was the traditional “hero’s press conference” with its dramatic scenarios and pet rescue clips. Instead, twice-daily updates delivered a steady stream of reliable, useful information flowing from the command center through multiple online channels, presented by those best qualified to share it.
There was no one hero, no one commander who ordered the teams into battle. Instead, there were skilled and knowledgeable battalions and experts coordinating their efforts and adapting their strategies to herd the fire toward an area of less fuel and then wait for the weather to change.
This highly choreographed process was almost beautiful to watch and it succeeded in halting the flames and saving our community. It also revealed something profound about crisis management and modern problem solving: a collaborative precision that greatly transcends individual achievements.
And yet, as the past week’s news demonstrates, our culture still clings to outdated hero-villain frameworks, even when they disrupt the cooperative approaches that consistently prove most effective. Whether the firestorms are in Los Angeles or Washington DC, the media rapidly recasts the story in tired, but familiar terms.
This disconnect between mythology and methodology doesn’t just misrepresent reality. It actively hampers our ability to address daunting challenges.
The Persistence of Hero-Villain Marketing
Much of the blame for this persistent idolatry lies with marketing. Brand strategists have long recognized that complicated realities don’t sell well, whether you’re moving products, personalities, or political ideas. Heroes and villains are convenient icons, distilling vast, intricate processes into compelling personal narratives.
Steve Jobs is extolled as the sole visionary behind Apple’s success, eclipsing thousands of engineers and designers. Elon Musk becomes the face of Tesla and SpaceX, overshadowing vast teams of researchers and technicians. Dr. Anthony Fauci is cast as the evil doer of Covid, sharing equal billing with the virus itself.
This mythologizing does more than oversimplify. It blinds us to how real progress happens. It actively obscures the collaborative expertise that drives innovation. We hunt for charismatic leaders instead of building cohesive teams. Even worse, it leads us to believe in dramatic solutions rather than invest in the experiments and iterations needed for real break throughs.
The confirmation hearings for Secretary of Defense illustrate the problem of this simplified narrative beyond disaster management. While the Department of Defense represents one of the most sophisticated organizational systems in our government—managing millions of personnel, coordinating global operations, and maintaining intricate networks of expertise—public discussion of its nominated leader, Pete Hegseth, quickly devolved into a debate about whether he was a hero or a villain.
What often goes unreported and unrecognized in these debates is how corporations, institutions, and response teams are resilient by design. The Pentagon, like other modern organizations, has evolved layers of professional expertise, collaborative networks, and institutional memory that transcend any single leader. These teams including career administrators, military professionals, technical specialists, and policy experts, maintain operational continuity regardless of who sits in the secretary’s office. They assess, adapt, and when necessary, route around obstacles to maintain mission effectiveness.
If Hegseth is indeed a villain, the essential but unseen teams will figure that out quickly and find a way to eject him as effectively as the body flushes out a toxin. If he’s a hero, they will recognize that and integrate him into the many systems that sustain their work. If he’s simply a talking head, they will work around him.
Wicked but Not Evil
In case you’re wondering, I’m not cheerleading for the deep state or embedded resistance. What I’m describing is something more nuanced and vital: the quiet proficiency that emerges when expertise is valued over ego.
When we see a leader confidently handing off responsibility to another leader, or experts freely sharing knowledge without concern for credit, we’re witnessing systems designed to solve problems rather than to claim credit. These teams’ success is measured by what they accomplish and by the boring regularity of sustained performance. Their lack of drama isn’t just incidental—it’s fundamental to why these systems succeed.
The morning I surveyed my belongings, deciding what to save from the advancing Caldor fire, I still believed in a fairy tale solution: a hero to defeat a clear and present danger. But most modern challenges defy one-dimensional plot lines. They’re labeled “wicked,” not because they’re evil, but because they’re impossibly complex, unpredictable, with no obvious solution.
Wicked problems include climate change, homelessness, affordable health care and many more pressing concerns that all have the characteristics of a wildfire. What appears at first as a two-sided battle between firefighters and flames is actually a convergence of weather patterns, forest management decisions, urban development choices, emergency response capabilities, and community preparedness. The fire’s behavior is influenced by winds driven by global climate shifts, which in turn are shaped by industrial policies, energy choices, and consumption habits across continents.
Each attempted solution risks creating more problems, often in ways we can’t anticipate. When we jump in to suppress a fire, we may prevent the natural clearing that forests evolved to expect. A controlled burn can disrupt delicate ecosystems we barely understand. If we save an area from burning, we’re sometimes just stockpiling fuel for an even bigger fire down the road.
This is why wicked problems laugh at simple solutions. They’ve perfected a whack-a-mole level of resistance immune to heroism.
But wicked problems can be solved by teams that understand this complexity and work with it rather than against it. These networks of experts don’t try to be heroes or pretend they have all the answers. Instead, they adapt in real time, sharing information and adjusting strategies as conditions change. Their selfless actions have taught me to see something more praiseworthy than a hero’s journey. They’ve shown me the courage and nobility of a web of expertise moving in real-time to meet an evolving threat.
Beyond the Lone Hero
My daughter recently encouraged me to watch the Iron Man and Avenger series of movies, and I’m glad I did because it served up a highly entertaining fable that undercuts the hero-villain story I’m trying to leave behind. Tony Stark starts out as an admired mastermind, arrogant in his belief of his individual intelligence and technological prowess. But through a series of personal and professional defeats, he accepts that even singular geniuses need the diverse capabilities of others to tackle global threats. Perhaps this new take on superheroes is influencing the millions who viewed the movies before I did.
The path forward isn’t about abandoning individual excellence, leadership, or even heroes like Iron Man. It’s about reframing how we understand their role within larger systems of collective action. Addressing climate change or any other wicked problems requires us to weave together distinct expertise, perspectives, and approaches. Our task isn’t finding the right hero; it’s becoming better at working together.
When I think back to those smoke-filled days of the Caldor fire, I don’t remember any single hero swooping in to save us. Instead, I recall hundreds of ordinary people doing extraordinary things together. This may not be thrilling to watch, but it offers something more valuable—genuine hope. While we can’t control when the next climate-driven disaster will strike or when a new policy erodes our freedom, we can control how we prepare and respond. By building, maintaining, and respecting robust systems of collective action, we create real possibilities for addressing even our most formidable challenges.
Your Turn
I think most of us would prefer to be part of an effective solution rather than ignoring or sustaining a problem. These reflections might lead you in that direction.
Notice how news media presents complex challenges this week. Which stories rely on hero-villain frameworks? Do any acknowledge systemic complexity?
Think about a recent success in your workplace or community. Who got public credit, and who were the invisible experts working behind the scenes? How could their contributions be more widely recognized?
Consider a wicked problem affecting your community (housing costs, education, transportation, etc.). What different types of expertise and collaboration would be needed to address it effectively? Who are the quiet experts already working on solutions?
Finally, if you haven’t watched the Iron Man and Avenger movies, buy a case of popcorn and spend the next few weeks enjoying them. The quality is spotty, but the overall message is well-worth the time investment. Here’s a suggested watch order.
I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Your insights might help others recognize and appreciate the collaborative networks that sustain our institutions and communities.
If you’re new here, an algorithm probably guided you. In that case, I recommend you confirm who I am, where my expertise lies, and what biases I may bring to my posts. If you want to read more, I’d suggest you start with my foundational post, The Hidden Influence of Branding in American Politics.
I'm very familiar with the myth of the hero in design, science, storytelling and elsewhere. I really like the example of the Marvel Avengers. I didn't expect it. Superheroes who can't do it alone. So many different superpowers come in various shapes and sizes to save the world. Fun example of branding, sub branding and more.
The hero myth serves two purposes in our society: One is that it enables tyrants to extract loyalty from us by posing as a god, angry or loving, who alone can save us. The other is that imagining ourselves as heroes, - effective loners - prevents us from cooperating, from galvanizing to overcome tyranny.
Your "Each attempted solution risks creating more problems, often in ways we can't anticipate." is exactly what I've said many times with slightly different words. It's why, with advancing knowledge, we're not becoming healthier and happier.
What separates us from other beasts is impulse control. Culture - guided by artifacts such as the U.S. Constitution - can direct us to avoid past mistakes made by instinct.
Yet we still select cultural leaders most strongly driven by the impulse to dominate. They've tailored culture to value their own type most highly, to admire the greedy and self-centered.
They've employed culture to amplify primitive responses: Civilization is the establishment of order that enables us to live together in crowded conditions. But it has been perverted to turn conflicts between individuals into wars in which people murder strangers. We do so to increase the power of public figures - people we know only through marketing campaigns.
Our leaders have managed to reinterpret Jesus' call for love and understanding to a call for persecution of all who resist their domination and all but white male "Christians".